


Impossible

by allmylovesatonce



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 14:33:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21055988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmylovesatonce/pseuds/allmylovesatonce
Summary: After returning through the stones, Claire grapples with the decisions she's made and has to choose between what both her husbands want her to do and what she needs. But when someone from her past appears, she’s in for the surprise of her life.





	Impossible

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution to the One Quote, One Shot Book 2 challenge on tumblr! I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> My quote was: I bristled a bit at this. I had been feeling a trifle nervous myself over the general revealingness of the dress, the fashionable sketches the seamstress had shown me notwithstanding. But Jamie’s reaction was making me feel defensive, and thus rebellious.

The promise I’d made to Frank was still fresh in my mind. My entire being rebelled against the idea of a life without Jamie, but here I was. He’d sent me back and I had to keep the promise I’d made to him as well. Our child needed a good life. I had to remind myself too many times that I was doing this for my child, for the last remaining piece I had of Jamie. 

I walked to the window of my room and saw Frank burning my 18th century clothes. What I’d worn as Jamie held me for the last time ever. What had been my proof of where I’d been for years. 

Frank glanced up at me, giving me a look that all but said “I’m doing this for you.” No matter how much he tried to tell me this was the right choice, I just wasn’t there yet. I didn’t know if I’d ever get to that point. 

That night, I still slept in my own room. Frank was my husband here, but he was not my husband in my heart. As I laid there, willing sleep to find me, I silently wept. I yearned for Jamie, for the comfort of his arms around me. The comfort of feeling safe, no matter the conflicts around us. I missed my husband, but no one in this century could understand that. I was grieving with my entire being, but I wasn’t allowed to show it. 

I knew I needed sleep. Getting rest was important for my unborn child. My mind flitted to my other child. Faith. Perhaps she had finally met her father. He promised me that he would find me in the next life. I had no doubt that he would find our child as well. I almost felt comfort knowing that they were together. He had Faith, I had our second child. 

The world was just too unfair to have let all four of us be together. 

In sleep that night, they came to me. 

_ I walked down a hazy corridor. It looked like a hospital. The same hospital I’d been in a week ago. I wandered down the hall, looking in empty room after empty room. I wondered why I was there. What was the significance of this hallway? As I got close to the last of the doors, a small red-headed child peeked out of the door.  _

_ I froze as I stared at her. Red curls covered her head. She wore an odd frock for a baby of nearly two years. A large smile crossed her sweet face as she looked up at me.  _

_ “Mama!”  _

_ I gasped as she looked at me with such intensity. She knew for certain that I was her mother. My mind jumped to the memory of the baby I’d held with red hair dusting her head. The baby I’d held, who’d already passed on before she’d even been born. Her eyes held mine as she stood firm in the doorway.  _

_ “Mama,” she said again, seemingly trying to tell me more this time.  _

_ I knelt down in front of her, reaching my hands out to grasp her arms. “Yes?” I asked.  _

_ “Da here.”  _

_ “What?” I tried to understand her meaning. “What do you mean, Darling?”  _

_ Her head inclined toward the room behind her. “Da! Da here!”  _

_ I glanced over at the bed. The curtain was pulled to provide a modicum of privacy. All I could see was the patient’s feet. Looking back at the child in front of me, she nodded at me.  _

_ “Da!” she said again.  _

_ A knot of anticipation formed in my stomach. I stood up and walked slowly further into the room. My steps were slow, moving me at a glacial pace. I thought I knew what I’d find, but I didn’t want to be wrong.  _

_ I gently pulled back the curtain. A familiar mop of red hair shone against the stark white pillowcase. I gasped so loudly that I woke. _

I sat up, shaking my head, clutching my chest. It had felt so real. Fresh tears sprang to my eyes. I tucked my legs up, curling around them. My head rested on my knees as I sobbed. More than ever before, I wanted Jamie’s arms to come around me and tell me that  _ this _ was the dream. He was here and I was alright. 

But he wasn’t here. I was alone. 

Well, not  _ completely _ alone. 

“ _ I promise, whatever happens you’ll never be alone again _ ,” he’d promised me. In a way, he’d been right. It just wasn’t the way I'd imagined. The way I yearned for at the moment. 

My hand laid against my stomach. It was still flat. Aside from the knowledge that our child was there, you’d never know. I racked my brain for prayers Jamie used to say. I needed this child to survive. We both did. I needed this child. 

When I woke up the next morning, I realized I’d cried myself to sleep. Slowly, reluctantly, I rose from my bed and dressed. It was such a fast process again. And yet, I missed the layers. I never thought I’d miss the corsets, the shifts, multiple layers that sometimes restricted movements. Right now, I’d give anything to have them back. It would mean I still had Jamie. 

Brushing a hand down my front, I took a deep breath and left my room. I descended the stairs slowly, not entirely wishing to start my day. But I knew that if I didn’t come out of my room, Frank would likely come find me. 

As I walked past the Reverend’s office, I heard Frank’s voice. I glanced in to see Frank on the phone. He was making travel plans. My stomach turned. I wasn’t ready to leave Scotland. 

Closing my eyes, I moved away from the doorway to the office. An inviting smell lured me toward the kitchen. As I got closer to the room, I could hear Mrs. Graham talking to the Reverend. 

“I think we should show it to her,” she said. I froze, knowing almost for certain  _ her _ referred to me. 

“There’s no reason to assume that she knows anything about this,” Wakefield replied. 

“But what if she does? They canna say who this person is. What if she knows him?”

“What if she doesn’t and ye just stir up painful memories for her?” 

Mrs. Graham huffed. The sound of dishes clanking together echoed from the kitchen. 

When Reverend Wakefield spoke again, his voice was softer this time. “She just gave up on her delusion. She  _ just _ agreed to resume her life with her husband. He’s making plans for their new life as we speak. There’s no reason ye need to bring it up.” 

Mrs. Graham sighed. “Alright. I’ll no’ say anything to her.” 

“Thank ye.” 

Deciding that I’d eavesdropped enough, I walked into the kitchen. They both looked up at me. Mrs. Graham flashed me a kind smile. Reverend Wakefield looked uneasy as he shuffled around papers on the table. He shoved the newspaper under his plate. I wondered if whatever they were hiding from me was in today’s paper. I’d almost forgotten how quickly news travelled in these days. 

Mrs. Graham set a plate of food in front of me at the table. “Do you know who Frank is on the phone with?” I asked. 

“I believe he was trying to secure some plane tickets to Boston,” Wakefield informed me. 

I nodded, silently acknowledging. 

“Did ye sleep well?” Mrs. Graham asked. 

For the first time this morning, I reflected on the dream from the night before. Not feeling like I could expand upon that, I lied. “Of course!” 

She smiled back at me. “Good.” 

My mind lingered on those images though. The small child in the doorway of a hospital room. Faith, no doubt. And Jamie, unconscious in a modern hospital bed. It was a painful image. Tormenting. My hands started to shake as I replayed it all. 

I reached out for the juice in front of me, but my shaking hands knocked it over. The beverage quickly ran, spreading across the table. I jumped up, as did Reggie, both of us scurrying to sop up the juice. Moving his plate out of the way, the newspaper fell to the floor beside him. Mrs. Graham rushed over with a towel, effectively cleaning up the mess. 

I bent down to pick up the papers that had fallen to the ground. My knees gave out and I collapsed on the floor as a familiar set of eyes stared up at me from the paper. I moved everything out of the way, wanting to get a better look. The picture looked just like the one they’d taken of me. Fear, confusion, and a pervasive feeling of sadness were clear, even in a grainy black and white picture in the paper. 

I gasped loudly, clutching the paper tighter. Mrs. Graham looked over at me. “Claire, are ye alright?” 

I ignored her questions. My mind was reeling too fast to make any sort of explanation. It wasn’t possible. He was 200 years in the past. No doubt, laying dead on a battlefield. How was his likeness captured and printed in a modern Inverness newspaper? There was just no way. 

My eyes finally tore from the paper to look up at the other two. They both had questioning looks on their faces. Mrs. Graham looked a bit righteous while Reggie almost looked afraid. “What is this?” I asked. My mind wasn’t ready to read the article that might just tell me. 

Mrs. Graham bent down until she was at my level. “Do ye know this man?” 

“What is happening?” I pressed. I couldn’t tell her who I thought he was until I knew for sure. 

Wakefield sighed, his hand covering his face. Mrs. Graham looked more sympathetic. “After ye came back, Claire, people started to wonder where ye’d been, ye see?” I nodded. I hadn’t told my story to anyone but Mrs. Graham and Frank, though Frank had surely told Reggie. “With yer disappearance at the stones, and then turning back up on a road coming from there, well, people were curious.” She took a deep breath before she continued. “Well, someone went back to Craigh na Dun, wondering if something had really happened there. As they got to the top of the hill, they found this man laying in the center of the circle.” 

My eyebrows shot to my hairline. I stared back down at the picture, noting the fear again. It was him. But how? 

Mrs. Graham continued. “According to the article, he was very gravely injured and they took him to the hospital.” 

“He was injured?” I cried. 

She nodded, an unsure look crossing her face as she took in my expression. 

I jumped up, feeling true motivation for the first time since I’d come through the stones again. “I have to go.” I clutched the paper in my hand, stomping toward the front door. 

“What? You can’t go!” Reggie called. 

“I have to.” 

“Why?” 

I turned around and held out the picture for them. “Because this man is my husband.” Reggie went a bit white, glancing back toward his office where Frank was. On the other hand, Mrs. Graham smiled, almost triumphantly. 

“I’ll take ye,” she offered. 

Reggie protested more as the two of us ran from the house. We were in her car as he still called to us. I couldn’t be stopped. If it was possible that Jamie was here, I was getting to him, no matter the cost. 

She drove slower than I would have. Perhaps that was safer. I felt desperate, wishing all other cars were off the road. Could it really be possible? Could he really be here? But  _ how _ ? 

I remembered begging him to come with me. He’d told me his destiny was on Culloden Moor. But how was he in the newspaper in 1948? I wanted answers. And more than anything else, I wanted this all to be real.

When we got to the hospital, I ran from the car. My shoes were still a bit unfamiliar to me. I tripped slightly, catching myself on another car. 

“Ye might want to slow down,” Mrs. Graham advised from behind me. I waved my acknowledgment, slowing down only slightly. 

We raced to the front desk. I slammed my hands down on the desk, stopping myself. “Where is he?” I don’t know why I thought that was enough. The nurse looked at me in utter confusion. “The man they found at the stones. The unnamed man. Where is he?” 

A doctor standing behind her turned his head at my outburst. “Ma’am, I’m afraid that’s no’ information we can be sharing.” 

I flattened the paper on the desk, showing it to them. “He’s my husband! This man from the paper, he’s my husband. I need to see him!” 

“Yer...husband?” The doctor asked. I nodded insistently. His eyes narrowed at me. It was clear the moment he recognized me. “Ma’am, I’m afraid we canna let ye go see him.” 

I groaned loudly. “Look, I know quite well you think I’m crazy, but I’m not. That man is my husband and I need to see him. I know you recognize me. I was the woman that was here just last week after being found out there too. Which means that I  _ know _ what I’m fucking talking about. That man is my husband and I demand that you tell me where he is.”

The doctor looked at me, scrutinizing me. He shook his head to himself. “I’m sorry. I know that you believe this to be true, but I’m afraid I can’t let you see him.” He walked away, still shaking his head. 

Tears were swimming in my eyes. I wondered if anyone would stop me if I simply started going room to room, looking for him. My cheeks were growing wet as Mrs. Graham’s hand patted my shoulder. I shook my head, trying to decide what to do next. 

“Room 233.”

My head whipped over to the nurse behind the desk. “I’m sorry?” 

She looked both ways before looking at me again. “The man in the paper, the one you’re looking for. He’s in Room 233.” 

My tears flowed faster as I reached across the desk and grabbed her hands. “Thank you! Oh my goodness, thank you so much.” 

She nodded kindly, squeezing my hand. Her head tilted toward the right, telling me which way to go. I was off before she could tell me again, Mrs. Graham following in my steps. I found the right room quickly — even if it felt like a hundred years. Pausing, my hand hovered over the knob. 

“Go on,” Mrs. Graham encouraged. I looked over at her and she shot me a bright smile, nodding for me to go in. 

“What if it’s not him?” I whispered. My stomach tightened, my heart racing. “It’s impossible for him to be here.” 

She grabbed my hand, gently taking the paper from me. Holding it up to me, she showed me the picture. “Is this him?” I stared at the face looking out at me. I knew those eyes, that hair, that face. 

“Yes.” 

“Then go on.” 

I took a deep breath, nodding, somewhat to myself. My hand turned on the knob and the door was opening, even if my mind seemed a step or two behind. The scene when I entered was just like my dream.  _ A pulled curtain. Only feet visible.  _ I prayed the rest of the dream followed — that I’d pull back the curtain and it would really be him. 

I crept closer, a strong wave of anxiety taking over me. I wanted to turn back. I couldn’t be disappointed if I never looked. Turning back, I looked to Mrs. Graham for help. She stood out of the room, just past the doorway. I knew what she was doing. She was giving me space. 

“Can you look?” I whispered. 

“But I don’t know what yer man looks like.” 

“Just look and see if he looks like the man in the picture.” 

She shot me a look, but agreed nonetheless. Walking forward, she went past me and moved around the curtain. I held my breath. She came back around and nodded to me. “It’s the man from the paper. He’s asleep, but it’s him. I’m sure of it.” 

I breathed out a sigh, though I didn’t know if it was anxiety or relief. Mrs. Graham left me alone again. Laying a hand on my stomach, I reminded myself —  _ not all alone _ . My hand shook as I reached for the curtain. Gently, holding my breath, I pulled it back. I vaguely heard the scratching sound of the rings against the bar, but my eyes had locked on the man in the bed and nothing else mattered. I stumbled forward, crying out loudly. My hand clapped over my mouth as I stared down at him. 

“How are you here?” I asked his unconscious form. I bent down, grabbing his hand. Furrowing my brows, I decided I wanted proof that it was him. Looking over my shoulder, I checked that the coast was clear before pulling down the neck of his hospital gown. A soft gasp echoed from me as I spotted the scar from the gunshot wound I’d patched up the day I met him. I looked next at his hand — the one I’d mended after Wentworth. 

Tears were fully flowing from my eyes as the impossible laid in front of me. I sat on the edge of his bed, clinging to him, fully afraid that he’d disappear. Or worse, that I’d wake up. 

I sat there for a long time, simply staring at him. My hand drifted up, grazing his cheek. 

Slowly, his eyes started to flutter open. Deep blue eyes stared up at me. He wasn’t focused yet. I wondered how long he’d been here, how conscious he’d been. Now, I wished a doctor could tell me the extent of his injuries. Sooner than I expected, his eyes started to focus on me. 

“Claire?” 

I smiled widely, tears leaking from my eyes again. “It’s me.” 

His face contorted, closing his eyes. Hands came up and covered his face. 

“Jamie,” I tried. His hands came down and he looked at me. “I promise you I’m here.” I squeezed his hand and he jumped a little. His eyes locked on my hand over his. 

“Sassenach?” Disbelief was clear on his face. 

I reached my hand out to brush the hair from his face. “Jamie, I’m here. I’m real.” I choked out a watery laugh. “Though I don’t know how you are.” 

“Ye’re real?” he asked, shock in his voice. 

“I’m real.” 

His hand I was holding turned and clenched mine tightly in his. The other hand lifted weakly off the bed, trying to touch my face. I could tell he had very little strength as it fell back to the bed. Grabbing his other hand, I lifted it for him, cupping it to my face. He gazed at me in wonder, his thumb stroking my cheek. 

“ _ Mo nighean donn _ .” He sobbed slightly, tears streaming down his face. “But ye went back.” 

I nodded, closing my eyes and forcing more tears out. “I did. But, Jamie, look around. You’re in the 20th century.” 

His eyes moved around the room, suddenly remembering where he was. “Aye. So that’s where I am, then?” 

“How long have you been here?” 

Jamie shook his head. “I dinna ken exactly.” His eyes drifted closed as a pained look covered his face. “Someone found me and started yelling. I was verra confused as to what was happening. They moved me from the hill into some  _ carriage  _ or such.” 

“A car?” I asked. 

He shook his head. “Well, I dinna ken. I was in and out of it a lot.” A dark look crossed his face. “Rather like my transfer to the abbey.” I nodded, not needing to acknowledge any more of that time in our past. “Then I was here, though I didna ken where  _ here _ was, exactly. Even barely conscious, they asked me all sorts of questions I couldna answer.” He chuckled to himself. I almost swooned at the sound. “I kept wishing ye were here to answer them.” 

I squeezed his hand. “I’m here now, my love.” 

He shook his head in awe as he stared at me. “I thought I’d ne’er see ye again, Sassenach.” 

I swallowed harshly. “I know.” My hand cupped his face. 

Jamie took a deep breath. “Next time I came to, I was here, in this bed. I’m still no’ so sure where I am.” He smiled broadly at me. “Though I dinna care, so long as ye’re here.” 

“Well, I can tell you where you are. You’re in a hospital in Inverness.” I looked behind me before continuing. “In the year 1948.” 

His eyes went wide. “They worked,” he whispered. 

“What do you mean?” 

He paused, breathing in and out deeply. “I was spared,” he told me in a small voice. My eyes widened. “I went back to fight, as I said I would.” I felt my face fall. His hand held mine tighter. “It was as ye always said it would be.” I looked down, unable to hold his gaze. He swallowed before continuing with his story. “I was on the battlefield and...well, I was hurt.” 

My head flew back up. “Where?” Hands moved across his body, trying to find his injury. 

His hands stopped mine. He brought them up to his lips, kissing the backs of my hands. “I think I’m alright. Either that, or I died and this is heaven.” 

“Jamie.” 

He pulled the blanket back and his gown up, revealing the massive cut across his thigh. I let out a small cry, my fingers hovering above the mark. 

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ.” 

I could see where the modern surgeons had no doubt tried to fix his leg. Suddenly, I turned to the end of his bed, reaching for his file. I scanned it all, reading all they’d done to save him. 

“What is that?” he asked. 

“It tells me all they’ve done to treat you.” I was looking specifically for something to treat an infection. I released a small “aha” when I finally found it.  _ Penicillin _ . Last doctor’s report had shown healing. My heart soared. I put the file back where I found it and turned back to him. “What happened next?” 

He reached for me. I scooted closer, putting both my hands in his. “Rupert found me,” he continued. 

“He wasn’t mad?” I recalled his face as he’d seen us standing over Dougal’s body. My head shook at the memory. 

“He told me he wouldna leave me there. So he took me and there were many of us gathered in a small barn. But eventually the British found us.” 

My breath caught as he said it. I knew he was alive and in front of me (unless it was just a dream) but I was somehow still scared for him. He told me the rest of the story of how he was spared due to the debt owed by the boy he’d let go near Carryarick. The cart they’d started to send him back to Lallybroch on had taken off, but quickly, the driver had stopped to relieve himself. Taking advantage of not being terribly far from the moor and not being truly on their way, Jamie convinced the driver to take him to the stones instead. 

“He was verra confused, but it was closer than Lallybroch and I dinna think he wanted to be caught wi’ me,” Jamie explained. “He all but carried me up to the stone circle and left me there.” 

“Why?” 

He stared at me for a moment. “I kent I wasna going to live. And I didna want to die in the back of a cart, being hauled off like swine. I wanted to go peacefully where I could feel close to ye.” 

I shook my head, tears welling in my eyes again. “Jamie.” 

“I was right by the middle stone. I was weak, so weak, but I reached my hand out and I touched it, just thinking of ye. I didna think it would work. That wasna why I did it, really. I just...I wanted to feel like I was wi’ ye.” He was getting choked up. “I felt like I was proper dyin’, even worse than my leg was doing. But then when I looked up, I was in the same place. Until the strangely dressed men found me, I had no inclination that anything had happened,” Jamie explained. I leaned forward, cupping his face in my hands and pressing my forehead to his. “I just wanted to see ye again,” he whispered. 

“I know what you mean. It’s taken every ounce of strength I’ve had to not run right back to find you,” I informed him. 

“Ye were right to stay here,” he replied. “Tis what’s best for ye.” A few emotions crossed his face in rapid succession.  _ Joy. Disbelief. Worry. _ I knew what was on his mind before his hand moved to my stomach. “Tis best for the bairn.” 

I laid my hand over his, pressing it further against me. “But you’re here now.” He glanced up at me. “So now, I can accept that.” I smiled at him. For the first time, it occurred to me what his presence here could really mean. We could be a family. Just like we’d always wanted. 

My emotions were building within me. Tears had varied between a steady flow and a slow trickle, but they’d always been leaking from my eyes. Suddenly, unable to hold back anymore, I leaned forward and hugged him to me. My arms wrapped around him tightly, like I was afraid he’d disappear. Truthfully, I was a bit afraid. 

He was weak, but his arms came around me and held me back. I could feel his soft sobs as we held each other, as we held a recaptured future. 

Slowly, I pulled back. “I’ve spent a bit over a week back here and I’ve been trying to imagine a life without you.” A sob cut me off. 

“Sassenach,” he whispered, running his thumb along my cheek. 

“I couldn’t do it, Jamie. I love you too much. I didn’t want to imagine it. People kept pushing me back toward my old life, but it wasn’t what I wanted. Or worse, what I needed. I need you. You and me. And our child. That’s all I need,” I promised him. 

“That sounds like a dream,” he agreed. 

“But it doesn’t have to be a dream anymore,” I reminded him. “You’re here. We’re in the same time. And we can be a family. We can have all we ever wanted, Jamie.” 

His inner conflict was clear on his face. “This isna my time.” 

“You helped me when I was out of my depth in the 18th century. Do you not think I’d do the same for you?” 

He didn’t answer, but he looked a bit thoughtful. 

I grabbed his hands again, squeezing tightly. “Jamie, if you go back, you’d be a wanted man. A traitor to the crown. If they find you, they’ll kill you.” His brow furrowed. “But if you stay here, we could be together. We could be safe. Our child could be raised by both of us. We could be a family. We...” I cut myself off, taking a deep breath. “We could be happy.” 

Jamie opened his mouth to reply but I talked over him. 

“Please, just think about it. You still have to heal, so you have time before a decision has to be made.” 

He wouldn’t meet my eyes. I started to question it all — our marriage, the depths of his love for me, the supposedly unbreakable bond between us. What if I had it all wrong? 

“Claire,” he rasped. “Ye ken I want all that. I want nothing more than that.” He looked up at me, a vulnerable expression on his face. “But I dinna ken how to be in this time. I dinna want to make yer life harder or our bairn’s life harder.” 

I shook my head. “You must know that I would take a hard life with you over an easy life with anyone else.” I let out a breath. “But, I promise you, it won’t make it harder. Living without you — that’s what would make my life hard. Growing up without a father — that’s what would make our child’s life hard.” 

Jamie’s face hardened a bit. “But ye have a life here — one I dinna fit into. What about…” he sighed, “What about Frank?” 

“I chose you over him once before,” I reminded him. “What makes you think I wouldn’t do so again? Jamie, I’m carrying  _ your  _ child. If you’re here, why would I raise them with anyone else? You are my life, Jamie. You’re my home. And maybe this home isn’t lost anymore.” 

Tears glistened in his eyes again. “Ye’d really want me here?” 

I didn’t know if words would be enough to reassure him. Instead, I pressed my lips to his desperately, trying to show him what I meant. A similar desperation radiated from him as he held me closely, returning the kiss. 

I broke away, resting my forehead against his. “It’s you and me, you hear?” 

“You and me,” he repeated. “And our family.” 

I let out a soft sob. “Exactly.” 

And in that moment, it all clicked together. The future we thought we’d given up was back in our reach. It would take some figuring out, but I knew we could do it. The misery I’d felt in the last week was nothing compared to the elation flowing through me as I laid my head against Jamie’s shoulder while he held me. Neither of us could let the other go. 

The first time I willingly released him was when the doctor came in to check on him. I thoroughly interrogated the man to get a good indication of Jamie’s health. He informed me that they’d cleaned and stitched his wound, giving him regular doses of penicillin to prevent infection. He was starved (which I already knew he would be) and they were trying to slowly build back up his nutrients and rehydrate him. The doctor seemed optimistic, even if he thought Jamie’s leg would take a long time to heal. I didn’t care so much — neither did Jamie — so long as it would, in fact, heal. I could see the thought of an amputation like Ian’s floating in Jamie’s eyes. 

I hated that Jamie wasn’t  _ my _ patient. That he was under someone else’s care. But this doctor seemed to know what he was talking about, as well as care about Jamie’s outcome. I didn’t care for the doctors who’d treated me upon my return. But this one, I liked. As long as he told me I wasn’t going to lose Jamie again, I was good with him. 

Jamie was exhausted and I could tell. I encouraged him to sleep and promised I wouldn’t leave. Once he was fully out, I finally remembered Mrs. Graham. She was sitting in a chair just outside the room. 

“I’m so sorry!” I cried, walking halfway to her. She jumped up and met me in the middle. “I forgot.” 

She smiled at me kindly. “Ye have nothing to be sorry for, my dear. So it was indeed him?” 

I returned her smile, nodding. “It is. It still feels impossible, but it’s him.” We walked back into the room together when I felt an almost magnetic force pulling me back to him. I took the chair next to his bed and held his hand as he slept. I started to weep when I saw the corner of his mouth pull up into a smile in his sleep. “I’m still half convinced this is a dream.” 

Mrs. Graham shot me a sympathetic look. “I’m awake, and I can promise ye it’s no’.” 

I looked from Jamie and back to her. Finally putting it all together, I told her about my dream from the night before. I shook my head as I got to the end. “It was almost prophetic.” 

“Ye were close to leaving Scotland, were ye no’?” I nodded. “He’s been here for days, Claire. Perhaps yer child was really reaching out to ye. Making sure ye found each other again.” 

I gaped at her. “You really believe that?” 

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I think there is something that brought ye to him before. And I’d be willing to bet that same something brought him to ye this time. Fate. Destiny. The universe. Who knows? But something wanted ye to find each other. That’s what I know.” 

“Thank you,” I choked out. 

She squeezed my shoulder. “Ye’ve been given a gift, Claire. I ken just by looking at ye that ye’re no’ about to squander it.” 

I shook my head. “No, I’m certainly not.” 

She took a seat in the other chair in the room. We sat there quietly for a while, absorbing the peace in the room. Jamie slept soundly, no doubt feeling more at ease than he had in a very long time. I almost felt like I could sleep myself. 

A loud set of footsteps sounded through the hall. It grabbed both of our attention. We glanced at each other before looking toward the door. 

“Claire!” 

My eyes went wide.  _ Frank _ . In my haste to see Jamie, I’d forgotten all about him. 

“Claire! Where are you?” 

I was jumping out of my chair to run out to the hall when he stormed past the room. He caught sight of me and froze. I moved to my right, trying to block Jamie from view as much as I could. His eyes landed on him anyway. 

I walked forward, sliding the curtain behind me. “Frank, I think we need to talk.” 

“Who the hell is that?” he demanded, pointing to the curtain. 

I took a deep breath. As I prepared to tell him the full truth, Mrs. Graham rounded the curtain. “I think this is a conversation for another place.” 

“I agree,” I replied. 

“Claire, you need to tell me what the hell is going on. And right now. I think I’ve been very understanding lately, but enough is enough.” 

I was frozen. I didn’t know how to explain it well enough to Frank. It was quite clear he didn’t believe where I actually was when I’d disappeared. With Jamie here, my explanation was even flimsier. 

“Claire?” A different voice called my name. My heart clenched. It was a situation I desperately wanted to avoid. 

I saw the anger in Frank’s eyes a second too late. He stormed over and threw back the curtain. It wasn’t Frank I was looking at, though. It was Jamie. 

His face contorted, fear taking over quickly. I ran to his side, stepping between him and Frank. “It’s not him,” I promised. “He was dead, remember?” Jamie’s eyes didn’t leave Frank. “Look at me.” He didn’t. “Jamie, look at me!” Reluctantly, he moved his gaze to me. “That’s not Black Jack. That’s Frank.” 

“Black Jack?” Frank asked. 

I looked briefly over my shoulder. “I told you about my encounters with that horrendous man.” 

“Claire, what the hell is going on here?” Frank demanded again. I saw Jamie stiffen at Frank’s tone. His good hand clenched into a fist. I laid my hand on it, trying to ease his mind. I left my hand over his, turning to look at Frank. 

“Frank, I’m afraid I won’t be able to go to Boston.”

“Excuse me?” He nearly laughed as he said it. “You promised me.” 

“I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to do that anymore.” I knew he needed an explanation, but I wasn’t sure how to do so. 

“Because of him? This is  _ him _ , huh?” 

“It is.” 

Frank glared at me. “You said you were in the 18th century.” 

“I was.” 

“You said he was dead in the Rising.”

“I thought he was.” 

“Then what the fuck is he doing here?” 

“I saw it in the paper today. They found him at the stones. Just like me,” I told him. 

“So what about your whole story of sending you back for a better life?” Frank questioned. 

“Aye, I did that.” I turned to look at Jamie. He was glaring at Frank. “I ne’er thought the stones would work. But they did and I’m here.”

Frank let out a disbelieving laugh. “You promised me, Claire. You came back to me. You promised me we’d raise the child together. As ours.” I felt Jamie’s hand tighten against mine. 

“I’m sorry, Frank. I have to break that promise.” He shook his head at me. “I can’t leave him.” 

“You can. I was your husband first. Send him back to his own time and keep your damn promise.” 

“Let me rephrase that, then. I  _ won’t  _ leave him. I’ve made this choice once before, Frank. You or him. And it was him. Making that choice again, it’ll be the same result. I choose him. I’m having  _ his _ child. I wouldn’t have even come back, Frank. I’m sorry, but this is my choice.” I felt bad for being so blunt, but nothing and no one was going to separate us again.

“Were you lying then? I knew the time travel was a lie,” Frank accused. 

“It wasn’t a lie!” 

“Look at this!” Mrs. Graham cried, drawing all of our attentions. “Look at what they found him with.” She presented the room with Jamie’s personal effects.  _ His bloodied kilt. His ruined shirt. His sporran, full of 18th century tokens. _ “Goes rather well wi’ what they found Claire wearing, does it no’?” 

Jamie and I both stared Frank down, daring him to contradict us. 

He shook his head. “Claire, you’re my wife.” 

“That’s the problem, Frank, because I’m  _ his _ wife too.” I held out my hands, both rings showing. I swallowed thickly, touching the gold ring. Two fingers closed around it, carefully pulling it from its place. I walked closer to Frank. Holding it out for him, I waited for him to hold out his hand. “Frank, take it.” 

“No. I’m not giving in that easily.” 

“Frank, you’re fighting for something you already lost. I’m sorry, but I can’t go back to the life we had. I think you know I only agreed to go back because I felt I had to. That I felt I had no choice. We made sense to me at some point, but that point is over. We’ve spent years without each other. Do you really want me to be married to you because you forced me to be?” 

He stared down at the ring in my outstretched hand. I could see how angry he was as his head shook. Finally, his hand grabbed the ring almost violently. He shot a look past me to Jamie. “You goddamned bloody bastard,” he spat. With one final look at the room, he stomped away. Mrs. Graham walked out after him. I suspected she was making sure he was really leaving. I closed my eyes, breathing out a sigh of relief. 

I turned back to Jamie, reaching a hand to his cheek. “Are you alright?” 

He nodded, seemingly stunned. “All that time,” he breathed. I leaned closer to him. “Every time we encountered him. He looked...he looked…” 

“Yes, he looked like Frank,” I finished for him. 

“How did ye…” 

“That wasn’t necessarily a good indicator, but they were different,” I promised Jamie. “Very different.” 

“Are ye sure, though? About yer choice.” 

I sat down on his bed again, taking his face in my hands. “When you left me at the stones the first time, I felt perhaps a bit conflicted. I wanted to be able to tell Frank what happened to me. But not enough that I wanted to go back to tell him. I wanted to be with you more than anything in the world.” 

“More than hot baths,” he reminded me with a grin. 

“Exactly,” I agreed, remembering the perks of the 20th century that I’d shared with him as we rode to Lallybroch that first time. I leaned in to kiss him quickly. “But this time, this time is different. He knows what happened. He knows the choice I’m making. And more than ever, I’m sure of my choice. You are the man I love, James Fraser.” I took his arm, laying our wrists together. “Blood of my blood.” 

He smiled, leaning his forehead to mine. “And bone of my bone.” 

* * *

I didn’t want to leave for the night. My arms were resting on the side of the bed, my head leaning against Jamie’s side. His hand stroked my hair, lulling me into the sweetest stupor. We were sitting in a comfortable silence. It was comforting enough just to  _ be _ together. In the short time we’d been apart, too many painful memories had formed. Neither of us felt quite strong enough to spend all our time discussing them. I wasn’t sure Jamie would ever feel comfortable discussing them, except abstractly. 

“Ye should go home,” Jamie whispered as my eyes started to flutter closed. 

“I don’t have a home here.” 

“Well ye must have been staying somewhere,” he reasoned. “Ye look exhausted, Sassenach. Go back and sleep.” 

“I can’t.” 

Jamie sighed. “Why?” 

“Well, for one, I was staying with Frank’s friend, so I don’t really think I’ll be very welcome there,” I informed him. I took a deep breath as I thought of my other reasons. “But also, if I go somewhere else, I’m not sure I’ll believe that this wasn’t a dream. I’m scared if I wake up without you…” 

Jamie nodded, his hand smoothing back my curls. “I understand. Truly.” His eyes met mine and I could see the sincerity there. “I just want ye to get some sleep. Ye need to sleep somewhere nicer than this.” 

“Up until the past week or so, I was sleeping in a rebel army camp,” I reminded him. “This feels like a five star hotel.” 

His brow furrowed at my comparison, but he pushed on. “Exactly. Ye were in terrible conditions. Ye need to be in a bed or such. Somewhere comfortable. What about the bairn?” 

I rolled my eyes. “Jamie, I’m not going.” 

He sighed dramatically. “Fine. Well come over to my right side.” He started scooching in his bed, closer to the left side. I watched him, unsure of what he really meant. Once he was in place, he patted the space next to him. I smiled, walking around the bed and laying down in the spot he created. His arm came around me, holding me close. “Go to sleep,  _ a nighean _ . I’ll be here.” 

“What if a doctor comes in and wants to send me home?” 

“I’ll start pitching a fit and they willna ken what to make of it,” Jamie teased. 

I picked my head up to look at him. “That sounds like a good plan.” He chuckled, his eyes regaining a bit of the sparkle they once had. His head came down, meeting me for a short kiss. I snuggled in closer to him, knowing almost for certain, I was going to get the best sleep I’d had in awhile. 

* * *

Miraculously, no one tried to kick me out. When I woke, Jamie was asleep next to me, his arm still around me. I had been right. I wasn’t sure I’d gotten a night of sleep that good since we’d left Lallybroch to meet the army. 

I stayed where I was in Jamie’s hospital bed, far too comfortable in his arms to move. My mind was moving quickly though, jumping from thought to thought like a frantic trapeze artist. It was going to be up to me to make sure we had a future in this time. I felt confident that the two of us were strong enough to handle most things. We’d already proven that many times over. But Jamie was out of his depth here. I made a silent list in my head of all the things I needed to figure out.  _ Money. A place to live. Jobs. Clothes. _

The first thing to do was make sure Frank hadn’t cleared out my account with my inheritance from Uncle Lamb. From the stories Mrs. Graham had told me, it seemed Frank held out hope that I’d return. One call could answer that question. 

The next thing to do was find clothes. I didn’t have very much and I didn’t particularly want to return to the Reverend’s manse. Jamie would need modern clothes most desperately. 

Finding a place to live was going to be difficult, but imperative. Maybe Mrs. Graham could help me come up with some options. I got the feeling that she had the lay of the land in Inverness. 

I felt confident that I could likely get a job as a nurse again. I still had the skills — had perhaps even advanced them in my time away. I had been acting as a full surgeon in my years in the past. That was at least one part of my life I’d kept up with. Hopefully some doctor or hospital would need a nurse. 

I was going to do all I could to make sure that Jamie didn’t regret staying in this time. We only had so many months to get our lives together before we were bringing another one into it. By my estimation, it would be around November. It was still April, so we had plenty of time.  _ Theoretically _ . A lot was up in the air. I hoped our “we’re strong enough” attitude stuck around in the 20th century. 

I felt Jamie start to rouse next to me. Looking over, I relished the familiar sight of him waking next to me. His eyes opened and he smiled at the sight of me. “Good morning,” I greeted. 

“Aye, a good one indeed.” 

I laughed. “How are you feeling?” 

He leaned over and placed a kiss against my shoulder. “The best I’ve felt in a long time.” I glared at him, wanting an honest report. “I’m alright. Haven’t ye spouted the magic of modern medicine to me before? I’m fine.” 

“You better be,” I replied, raising one eyebrow at him. He grinned, bringing me in for a kiss. 

Now that he was awake, I felt the need to start my errands. I needed to get as much done as I could before he got released from the hospital. I wasn’t sure how long they’d keep him. Perhaps talking to the doctor was another thing to add to my list. I pulled myself from the bed, giving Jamie the whole space back. 

“Okay,” I said, turning back to him. “I have some rather important things I need to do today. So, I am going to go do that, but I’ll come back, okay?” 

Jamie nodded. “Alright. What are ye doing?” 

“Well whenever you get out, you’re going to need clothes. Clothes that aren’t disgusting and torn.” He seemed unsure. “Look, it’s going to be a lot of change, but I promise, I’m going to help you through it. And I know —” 

“Ye did it for me,” he replied. “I can do it too.” 

My head tilted to the side as I looked at him, a smile spreading on my face. “Yeah, I did. At least you won’t have to wear a bloody corset.” 

Jamie laughed, his head falling back against his pillow. “Thank goodness for small mercies.” 

I walked closer to his bed again, running my hand through his hair. “I’ll be back soon, okay?” 

Jamie nodded to me. “Alright. Be careful.” 

I kissed him softly. “I will. You too.” 

* * *

I stood in the middle of several racks of clothes, feeling utterly lost. I thought of Mrs. Fitz, who’d fashioned me in 18th century garb when I was new to Leoch. She’d made damn sure I was dressed sensibly for the Gathering. I thought of Jenny, too. She’d provided me with extra pieces when needed. A spare shift, an extra corset. It was what I had always imagined having a sister was like. But as I stood in front of 20th century clothes, I felt confused. I’d worn them for most of my life, but the last few years had fundamentally changed me. I thought back on the clothes I’d brought with me to Scotland originally. They were smart, sensible options. I always thought I looked good wearing them. But as I stood in the middle of a clothing store, nothing called out to me. Not even pieces I’d have worn before.

I decided to find Jamie clothes first. That would be easier. It was always easier for men to dress, no matter the century. They could wear a kilt and let their knees show, but good lord, if a woman did… Or now, they still had more freedom than the women did. Of course, that applied to more than just clothes. I shook my head, trying to refocus. I grabbed a few pairs of pants and several different shirts. A couple of blazers seemed like a smart choice as well. I eyed a hat for a moment before I decided to leave that up to Jamie. 

“Do you want me to keep those at the front for you?” a kind saleswoman asked me. 

I glanced at her, feeling thankful. “Yes, please.” I handed her the large bundle I’d acquired. I still needed to look for clothes for myself. I watched a woman who was browsing near me. It had been a couple of years since I’d left. Normally, fashion wouldn’t change all that much in that time. But I had to wonder if the years since the war had changed it at a faster pace. I looked back and forth between various outfits. The old Claire would have easily picked something and left. I didn’t know why I was having so much trouble. 

The saleswoman from before walked by me again and I stopped her. “Excuse me.” She turned to look at me, a smile on her face. “I was hoping for some help.” She nodded, encouraging me to continue. “I know this might sound odd, but I’m just not sure what will suit me best anymore.” 

Her eyes narrowed slightly and I saw a lightbulb go on. She took a step closer to me. “Are ye the woman from the paper?” 

My eyes closed as I nodded.

“Is it true? That ye were wi’ the faeries?” 

I breathed out a laugh. The woman’s intent face stared back at me. “More or less,” I replied. “I...was gone for awhile and the clothes I wore before just don’t feel right on me.” 

She shot me a sympathetic smile. “I’m more than happy to help you, ma’am. Come right this way. We have a personal shopper in the back.” 

“Oh, I don’t know that I need that.” 

She waved me off. “Nonsense, this is exactly what she is for.” I was guided back to some room just off the main one. I saw two women talking closely as we entered the room. The saleslady cleared her throat and both women looked over. She put her hand on my shoulder. “I have a customer who is looking for some help. She’s…” she leaned closer to them, “...the woman from the paper.” 

They seemed to know exactly what that meant as their eyes went wide. “Pleasure to meet you, Miss…” 

“Claire,” I answered. The world knew me as Claire Randall, but I wanted to be Claire Fraser. Giving only my first name seemed easier. 

“What seems to be the reason ye’re needing help?” 

I cleared my throat, trying to decide how to answer. “I believe you know at least a bit about me. About my...disappearance. And when I came back...well, my clothes just don’t seem like  _ me _ anymore. I’ve changed a bit, you see. I was hoping to find some pieces that are a bit more fitting to the woman I am now.” I watched as they appraised me for a moment. “I’m sorry, this is ridiculous. I’ll just go grab some things and be out of your hair.” 

“No, don’t!” one of them called. I turned back. “This is exactly what we like to do.” 

The saleslady left me with the other two and they asked me a bunch of questions I didn’t know how to answer about what I felt comfortable in, colors I liked to wear, fabrics that spoke to me. 

The personal shopper — Martha, I think — introduced me to the other woman with her. She was a seamstress who worked in the store. The two women were very interested in finding me pieces I wanted and felt like myself in. 

“People often think clothes are just clothes,” Martha said. “But it’s so much more than that. It’s how you express yerself to the world. And for many years during the war, we didn’t get very many choices in how we expressed that. But we’re starting to again. So, I am glad ye’re trying to listen to what you think fits for you.” 

The seamstress pulled a sketch of a dress for me and, shockingly, I was sold from the moment I looked at it. It almost reminded me of the clothes I used to wear in Paris. Granted, it had several less layers and would have been considered incredibly inappropriate to wear then. But my eyes locked on it and I could picture myself in it — as Claire  _ Fraser _ again. With their help, I walked away with several new outfits that I felt good about and a smile on my face. 

Before I went back to the hospital, I stopped and changed from my sensible skirt and jumper I’d been wearing since the morning before. The dress was a big change, both in general dressiness and amount of skin showing. But for the first time in quite a while, I was starting to feel in charge of myself again. The war had taken more from me than my home and the people we’d lost. Wearing the dress made me feel daring again and I liked that. I put my coat back on over it, covering up the lower neckline and the straps that only covered a fraction of my shoulders. Compared to the clothes I’d worn in the 18th century, it was even less than a shift. But I liked it and felt like myself again. 

I walked back into Jamie’s hospital room, bearing the purchases from earlier in the day. He lit up as I entered again. “Ye’re back!” 

Putting the bags down, I walked over toward him, kissing him lightly. “I am. I had a productive morning too.” He nodded at me. “I got us both some new clothes.” 

“Ah, good.” 

“They’ll keep you in that gown until you leave the hospital, but it’s here when you need it.” I felt a nervous energy run through me as I started unbuttoning my coat. Jamie’s eyes followed me as I slowly stripped off my coat, revealing the new dress beneath it. 

“Christ, Claire. What is that?” 

I bristled a bit at this. I had been feeling a trifle nervous myself over the general revealingness of the dress, the fashionable sketches the seamstress had shown me notwithstanding. But Jamie’s reaction was making me feel defensive, and thus rebellious. 

“It’s a dress,” I said as if it was obvious. “This is how women dress nowadays, Jamie.” 

“It barely covers anything.” 

“Well I rather liked it,” I replied, hoping for a casual tone. “I liked the way it looked on me.” 

“Ye can see everything.” 

“No you can’t.” 

“Is this really how women dress these days?” Jamie asked, one brow raised. 

“Sometimes. I’ll admit this is a bit fancier than everyday wear, but I wanted to put it on. The dress I was wearing when I met you — that you believed was a shift — was a common outfit to wear,” I informed him. I was feeling vulnerable and a bit disappointed. I knew it showed much more than typical 18th century dress, but I hoped Jamie would just appreciate the way I looked in it. My arms came up to cover myself a bit. “I suppose if you find it that abhorrent, I’ll just go change into something else.” 

I reached for my coat, wanting to cover up more. “Sassenach, wait.” I paused, but didn’t turn to him. “Come here.” I looked over at him. “I’m sorry. Ye told me that it would be a lot of change and I need to remember that.” He reached his hand out to me. Reluctantly, I put my hand in his and let him pull me closer. “Tis a pretty dress, it’s just...less than I am used to. That’s all.” 

“I know. And I should have kept that in mind. I just…” I breathed out a sigh, trying to explain it to him. “I just put it on and felt like I used to, rather than how I’ve felt since I got back — since the war started, really.” 

His face fell. “I’m sorry for making ye feel bad.” He sighed. “Ye ken well I dinna always react well when I feel powerless.” 

I sat down on the edge of the bed. “That’s not true. You were more or less powerless most of the time we were together. When you were a fugitive or when we were at the mercy of the war.” I reached up and cupped his face. “I wasn’t allowed to show any confusion or hardships I faced when I arrived in your time. In order to survive, I had to blend in. But you have me. I’ll not let anything bad happen to you. And anytime you feel a bit lost or confused or overwhelmed, I’ll be here to help.” 

“I love ye,  _ mo nighean donn _ ,” he said. “And I promise ye, I’ll do my best to get used to all the changes.” 

“You will,” I reassured him. “And I promise you that I’ll try not to throw big changes at you. Give me a moment and I’ll go change.” 

“Dinna change,” he told me, holding onto my wrist. “Ye look — pretty doesna quite seem like enough.” I smiled, ducking my head a bit. “And if ye say that it’s no’ indecent, then I believe ye.” I couldn’t help but laugh. 

“I know it has a lot less layers and such,” I said, looking down at the dress. He nodded in agreement. I leaned closer to him, a devious look in my eyes. “But you know, that means it comes off a lot faster.” 

Jamie’s eyes went comically wide. He crushed his mouth to mine, holding me close. I chuckled against his lips as he continued to kiss me. I returned it in kind, as my hand rested at his neck. It couldn’t go anywhere. We were in a hospital and Jamie was still too weak. But feeling that spark within me again was an amazing feeling. 

I pulled back before someone walked in. Encouraging him to scoot over again, I sat in the space beside him, leaning into his side. His arm came around me as I asked him how his day had been so far. We sat there talking and I informed him of the progress I’d made today. 

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when I noticed that he was asleep again. Pressing a kiss to his temple, I moved gently from the bed. I was almost in the chair when someone stopped in the doorway, clearly looking for me. Shooting a look over my shoulder at Jamie, I walked out into the hallway. 

“Frank? What’s going on?” 

“I was getting ready to go back to Oxford,” he told me. “I wanted to see if you’d changed your mind.” 

I looked down at my feet. “I’m sorry, but no. I haven’t changed my mind.” 

He was quieter today. “So it’s him, then?” He shook his head. “Do you think if you’d have come with me you would have been happy?” 

My shoulders rose into a slow shrug. “I don’t know, Frank. I...I think probably not. I’d have put on a good face, but no, I don’t know that I would have been.” I hated the pain on his face. “I never wanted to hurt you. I hope you believe that. I just changed. We both did. The war changed us.” 

“Do you think you could have forgotten him in time?” 

I glanced over my shoulder to look back at Jamie’s sleeping figure. I shook my head. “That amount of time doesn’t exist.” 

“Where will you go?” Frank asked. 

“I’m not sure. For a bit now, I think we’ll stay here in Inverness.” 

He nodded, not really meeting my gaze. “I never got rid of your things. I’ll send them to Reggie and you can get them from him.” 

My hand reached out, but fell before I touched him. “Thank you, Frank.” 

He looked up at me, pain clear on his face. “I love you, Claire.” 

“I know.” He wanted me to say it back, but I couldn’t. Not meaning it the same way I had years ago. 

With a final nod, he started to turn. “Goodbye, Claire.” 

I leaned forward, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Goodbye, Frank.” 

He walked away from me and I watched for a moment. Then, I turned back and resumed my place at Jamie’s side. His hand was sheltered in both of mine as I finally felt truly at peace. 

Frank had gotten the truth of my disappearance — whether he accepted it or not. Jamie wasn’t dead, but was miraculously in my time and with me. He was going to live. We were going to be together and have our child. 

Tears sprang to my eyes as I finally focused on how everything had taken shocking, but beautifully welcomed turns. For the first time since I’d met him, I didn’t have a question in the back of my mind of when or if I’d lose Jamie. He was here. And whole. And, blessedly, mine. That was all I’d ever wanted. 

* * *

_ I walked through the orchard of death, a white shawl around my shoulders. He was there and I could feel it. But would I get there fast enough? There was no child to guide me to him this time. I had to find him on my own. In a pile of bodies, I saw my beloved. His eyes stared up at a starless sky. Bending down, I whispered to him, “Jamie, are you alive?”  _

_ His eyes continued to stare skyward. He didn’t say anything back. _

I woke myself with a gasp. My hands went to my face, feeling wet cheeks. I breathed rapidly, trying to sort through my dream. The room was dark and suffocating. 

Suddenly, a hand was at my back, rubbing in soothing circles. “Sassenach, are ye alright?” 

Turning to my right, I saw him. He was still alive. He’d made it to my time.  _ Made it to me _ . A soft, choked sob ripped from me as I threw myself at him. My arms wrapped around him, clutching him close. He pulled me in closer, holding me securely against him. 

“I’m here,  _ a nighean _ . Ye’re no’ alone. I’m here,” he cooed. “It was just another dream.” I nodded against him. “Was it the battlefield again?” 

“Yes.” 

He moved back from me only for a moment as he turned on the lamp next to him. Taking my hand in his, he placed it over his heart. His eyes didn’t leave mine as he reassured me that he was there, alive and well. I hated how the dreams plagued me. They’d been peppered across the few months we’d been back together. 

“Ye’re no’ alone,” he whispered again. 

And whether it was in response to my rapid heart rate or just to prove that I really wasn’t alone, the child within me kicked. I gasped softly, placing a hand on my belly. Grabbing Jamie’s hand, I put it there too, waiting and hoping for another kick. His eyes widened as he felt it too, a smile growing on his face. He leaned down and placed a kiss against my stomach, whispering quick words to our child. 

“None of us are alone,” he said, looking back up at me. 

“Exactly. And we never will be again,” I declared. 

Jamie leaned forward, kissing me softly. “Exactly.” He reached to turn the lamp back off. “Now, let me hold ye as ye fall back asleep. Perhaps it will keep the nightmares at bay.” 

I followed his suggestion, rolling on my side. His arms came around me, cradling my belly and securing me in his grasp. My eyelids quickly grew heavy again. I scooted back into him, getting as close as possible. I had vowed to never take his presence for granted. As I fell asleep, I felt the rightness in the world. For Jamie was with me. And that was enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can me on tumblr as three-drink-amy!


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